


If You Love Somebody (Then Let Them Go)

by Ladderofyears



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Angst, Auror Harry Potter, Coping, Correspondence, Crying Draco Malfoy, Draco Suffers From Migraines, Draco writes letters, Eventual Happy Ending, Falling In Love, Finding a new normal, Flashbacks, Forever homes, Friendship, Getting Together, Gifts, H/D Hurt!Fest 2020, Happy Ending, Living Together, Loneliness, Lonely Draco Malfoy, M/M, Magical Barrister! Draco, Mayfair, Memories, POV Draco Malfoy, Portkeys, Reminiscing, Romantic Cliches, Time Passes, Wizengamot, World Travel, competent draco, finding yourself, ghosting, life goes on - Freeform, no break-up, sharing lunches, there will be tears
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-24
Updated: 2020-09-24
Packaged: 2021-03-03 20:35:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 16,913
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24861661
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ladderofyears/pseuds/Ladderofyears
Summary: When Harry confesses to Draco that he wants leave London and travel the world, Draco is left devastated. He adores the other wizard more than life itself and their relationship means the whole world to him, but he knows that asking Harry to stay would be unfair. It would poison the very heart of their relationship.Draco gives his beloved his dream and so he does the unthinkable.Draco tells Harry to leave.
Relationships: Draco Malfoy/Harry Potter
Comments: 15
Kudos: 210
Collections: H/D Hurt!Fest 2020





	If You Love Somebody (Then Let Them Go)

**Author's Note:**

  * For [slytherco](https://archiveofourown.org/users/slytherco/gifts).



> Thank you to the Mods of this brilliant fest and to all the fellow Drarry Discord writers that sprinted alongside me. I couldn't have written this without you all. 
> 
> The lyrics at the start of the fic are from _Another Lonely Night_ by the very talented Adam Lambert.
> 
> This story is entirely dedicated to slytherco. It grew entirely from their brilliant prompt: _"Stop checking on him. He's moved on. He doesn't miss you."_

_Another day, another lonely night  
I would do anything to have you by my side  
Another day, another lonely night  
Don't wanna throw away another lonely life  
No time to sleep, all that I see, are old memories of you  
Yeah I try my best, but there's no one left for me to lose  
_

~*~*~

__

As Draco stepped through the wards to his and Harry’s home he felt their familiar magic roll and coil over his skin. Harry and he were the only two people who could enter their Mayfair townhouse without magic. The only two people that could pass over the threshold without permission. 

__

Harry and he had placed the wards on their flat together, on the very first night after the two had moved in. Their clothes had still been packed inside their trunks and most of their furniture had still needed to be Engorgio’d back to its original size, but Harry hadn’t cared a single sickle about unpacking yet. The dark-haired wizard had claimed that setting the wards was the most important job. 

__

“This is our _forever_ home,” Harry had said, sliding his arms around Draco’s waist and letting his head rest on his shoulder. “I don’t want a single sod here without our approval. This is our space, love. Our sanctuary away from the whole rest of the world.”

__

Draco had grinned at Harry’s purple prose but truthfully he had been just as excited as his boyfriend. 

__

The first night in their Mayfair home had represented so much to Draco. This was the first time that he’d lived away from school or the Manor. The first time that Harry and he would be truly alone without their friends or family telling them the odds or butting lovingly into their relationship and their business. 

__

Harry and Draco had chosen Mayfair together, pleased by its nearness to wizarding London but happy that they were amongst the Muggles rather than other wix. There was a freedom to Mayfair. Draco wasn’t a supposed ex-Death Eater with a tattoo on his arm here and Harry wasn’t the Boy Who Lived. The pair of them had felt anonymous here in this Mayfair townhouse; just another young couple making their way in their world. 

__

Draco pulled off his boots and shut the front door behind him. His eyes flicked sadly over a pair of Harry’s maltreated, tatty trainers still stood alone and abandoned in the shoe-rack. They were the grassy green Gola ones that Potter usually wore during his morning jog. 

__

It was easy for Draco imagine the sight of his boyfriend bursting through into their Entrance Hall, clean sweat staining his tee-shirt and the scent of morning London sticking to Harry like a charm. 

__

The wizard was fit as a bloody ferret so he’d barely be panting but that hadn’t ever stopped Harry making a meal of his exercise. He would usually stand, his hands on his hips and puff out a long breath. Then the wizard would toe off his trainers and shove them away without a second thought while he grinned broadly in Draco’s direction. Potter would always complain loudly of the insanity of Muggle bus drivers and usually add that they seemed determined to chase him off the road. It seemed wrong, somehow, that those trainers still sat there. Harry wouldn’t be around to wear them, not for twelve long months. 

__

Draco’s eyes felt sore and prickly at the sight of them but it wouldn’t do to cry once again. Draco knew that if he let any more tears fall he wouldn’t ever be able to reign them in. 

__

He rubbed his eyes and looked at his reflection in the Hallway mirror. He’d lost a bit of weight in the last few weeks, and his hair looked limp and shapeless. There were grey smudges beneath his red-rimmed eyes. 

__

Mother had told him to come home to the Manor tonight. Told him that the Manor was still Draco’s home; that it would be forever and that he was welcome to stay as long as he wished. Draco he knew that he couldn’t. Leaving their townhouse would be an admission that Draco’s life had changed beyond all recognition and that there was nothing on Merlin’s green earth that he could do to make it better. 

__

Harry had left him that very afternoon. Left him to travel for twelve months. It might only have been for a year but Draco’s heart felt like it had been gouged with a Sectumsempra. 

__

Harry had left him that very day and Draco felt like he had taken a part of his soul along with him. Harry had taken his magically-extended rucksack and he had kissed Draco goodbye at the International Portkey Departure Lounge. Draco’s boyfriend of almost five years had left England to have the adventure that he had said that he craved with every fibre of his being. 

__

And Draco had been the one to tell him to go. Draco had been the one to give his permission. 

__

Draco hadn’t wanted to tell Harry to leave and go travelling, of course. Draco had wanted Harry to stay in their Mayfair townhouse beside him, sharing their bed, their bodies and their lives every bit as much as Harry had seemed to want to leave. 

__

Blaise had been furious with how Draco had acquiesced to the plan. “You’re a ridiculous idiot,” he’d shouted at Draco, livid with anger. “Tell Harry that you _love_ him. Tell the bloody git that he’s _breaking_ you.” 

__

Pansy had understood though. 

__

“You don’t have a choice,” she had said to a stricken, shocked Draco. His best-friend had taken his hand in her own and held it tight between them. “You stop him and it’ll eat away at your relationship. Forever after you’ll be the anchor that tied him to London. It’ll poison your love as readily as bloody Basilisk Venom. Draco, if you love him,” she had said, her brown eyes finding Draco’s grey irises and not leaving them, “then you really can’t do anything else. You’ll _have_ to let him go.”

__

Draco slipped off his coat and hung it up on the peg next to the mirror. He’d had to let Harry leave. 

__

The Muggles had a twee, trite little quote that he’d seen in card shops and on wooden signs of cafe walls. “ _If you love somebody then let them go, for if they return they were always yours. If they don’t then they never were_.” Father would have derided those Muggle words as sentimental claptrap, but they gave Draco a degree of comfort. He held them close, locked next to his soul. 

__

Perhaps, Draco imagined, if he stayed in their townhouse, and he kept his heart as loyal and as loving as it had always been, then perhaps Harry would return to him. All he had to do was keep the faith. Draco signed reluctantly into the silence and then he hung up his satchel on the empty peg beside his coat. That was usually reserved as Harry’s spot but the dark-haired wizard wouldn’t be needing it for a good few months. 

__

Draco padded through to the kitchen. He switched on the kettle with a tap of his wand and reached into the cupboard for a teabag. Draco’s fingers closed around Harry’s favourite English Breakfast automatically and the wizard brewed the drink without a second thought. It was only as he was adding Harry’s generous dash of milk that the wizard realised his stupid, _foolish_ mistake. The mug was midnight blue, decorated with a constellation and it had been a jokey gift from Harry for one of their anniversaries. “ _A star for my star_ ,” Harry had explained, his face a daft dimpled grin. 

__

Draco shoved the steaming mug down onto the surface as speedily as a hex. The tea slopped over the edge, dirtying the wood beneath but Draco didn’t Scourgify the stain.

__

Harry’s favourite foods still filled their pantry. The absurd Treacle Tart-flavoured chocolate that he spread on his toast still sat in their fridge. Even with stasis spells all of this food would be utterly ruined by the time that Harry was supposed to return. Draco supposed he ought to Accio a black bag and clear out the cupboards but right now he simply couldn’t bear to. If he kept Harry’s favourite Butterbeer on the counter-top and Harry’s favourite honey in the fridge then Draco was able to pretend, just for a moment, that the other wizard was just in the next room. 

__

Draco felt a traitorous tear leak out of the corner of his eye and he slumped down onto a kitchen chair, suddenly feeling washed-out and entirely exhausted. His limbs ached in misery, like some part of him had irrevocably broken. 

__

Maybe Harry _wouldn’t_ return. Draco was many things but he hoped that he wasn’t naive. The world was a vast, splendid place, full of excitement and beauty. Harry wouldn’t be feted like a demi-god in Peru. Harry wouldn’t be stared at with naked curiosity in Brazil. If travelling gave Harry the freedom that he’d always craved, then it was plenty likely that he’d relish it enough to choose never to return. Draco knew that was a real possibility. 

__

And yet Draco had been the one to tell him to go. Draco had been the one to give his permission. 

__

“I want you to go,” Draco had said quietly when they’d talked it over. “Have your adventure, love. I’ll wait for you Harry. London’ll be waiting. Just come back. That’s all I want.”

__

Draco half-wished that had a Time Turner. Father had had one, years before. It’d been locked in the Manor basement with the rest of his treasures. Draco remembered how it had glinted on the rare occasion that he had been allowed to hold it as a child. It had been heavy in his hands; dangerous and arcane. The Time Turner had been seized with the rest of Lucius’s magical hoard and destroyed by the Ministry after a post-War raid. If only Draco had kept hold of it. Hidden it away, perhaps. Maybe he could have used it to go back in time and tell Harry not to leave him. 

__

Maybe he should have used it to convince himself not to be so damned selfless. He could have used it to convince himself to tell Harry to stay. After all, Draco was supposed to be a Slytherin. He was _supposed_ to be sly and self-serving. The nauseating bloody _Prophet_ loathed him as much as it ever had. Draco should have been selfish. The wizard would only have been living up to his own ill-famed reputation. 

__

Draco folded his arms onto the kitchen table and then he cried. Hot, heartbroken tears wet the sleeves of his shirt but the wizard made no attempt to stem them. The truth was that it wouldn't have mattered a dozen groats if he’d have had a thousand Time Turners. Draco knew, deep in his belly, that he would still have told Harry to leave. 

__

Draco knew that he would still have sat beside Harry on their settee while the dark-haired wizard leafed happily through the Flourish and Blotts travel guide on his knee. 

__

“I want to see the Pyramids,” Harry had murmured, pointing to a page with a fingertip. “Ron visited them when we were kids back at Hogwarts and he never let up about how bloody _brilliant_ they were… Those Egyptians were really powerful wizards, Draco! Apparently you can still feel their wards and curses rippling against your skin all these millennia later.” Draco knew that he would still have smiled and nodded at his boyfriend’s enthusiasm, not wanting to spoil his childlike excitement with a frown or a scowl. 

__

It wouldn’t have been fair otherwise. Draco had been the one to tell him to go. Draco had been the one to give his permission and even with a thousand Time Turners, Draco knew that he’d still have made exactly the same choice. That was how much Draco loved Harry. He’d loved him enough to let him leave. 

__

Draco had stood with Harry, their fingers entangled as they waited in the International Portkey Office queue for his beloved to book his open-ended ticket. Draco had sat on the bed that they’d brought together and watched as Harry cast a Reducio over his important belongings, filling the backpack that he’d brought especially for travelling with to the very brim. 

__

Draco had smiled, hoping his face was enough to mask the misery had that threatened every with moment to overwhelm him. Draco had offered up his own sun-block potion when Harry had confessed that he’d forgotten his. He had even given Harry his own favourite shirt to wear, telling his boyfriend that, even on the other side of the world, there wasn’t any excuse to look like a dishevelled scarecrow. 

__

Draco supposed his false joviality must have worked. Potter had been as beautifully oblivious as ever. The wild-haired wizard had pressed an ardent kiss of gratitude onto Draco’s mouth the moment that he’d finished packing. “Thank you love,” Harry had said, his voice truly happy. “I couldn’t have got myself organised and sorted without you.” Harry had laughed then, a little embarrassed. “I don’t know how I’m going to get by without you chivvying me along, Draco.”

__

Draco had no idea how long he had sat there, lost entirely in his thoughts and memories. The brittle brightness of late afternoon had faded into dusk and shadows patterned the kitchen walls.  
The kitchen chair was uncomfortable and Draco stretched gingerly, his muscles infuriated by the cramped position that he’d held himself in for far too long. There was a lump in his throat that felt as hard and unwieldy as a stone but at least his tears had finally dried. 

__

Draco yawned, muffling it with the back of his hand. He supposed that he ought to make himself some dinner. He knew that he’d eaten a croissant and coffee with Harry hours before, a final hurrah before the other wizard finally left London, but Draco still didn’t feel the slightest bit hungry. Draco stood up, his feet prickling with pins and needles. 

__

He looked around his kitchen with distaste and decided that he wasn’t going to bother with dinner tonight. His appetite had deserted him entirely. Draco supposed that he ought to Firecall Mother or even Pansy. Both witches were dreadfully worried about him. They’d both have to wait though. Draco doubted that he could arrange his features into anything even approaching appropriate and the last thing that he wanted was their kind-natured fussing and faff. He wanted to be left alone to nurse his broken heart. 

__

All Draco wanted was his bed. He’d face the world in the morning, his face arranged into an acceptable semblance of cheerful acceptance. Draco would smile thinly, drink English Breakfast from his Mother’s favourite china teacups and tell her that yes, he would be absolutely _fine_. 

__

And Draco knew that he’d have to be. He was the one that had done this. 

__

Draco had been the one to tell Harry to leave.

__

~*~*~

__

As he trudged slowly to the bedroom, Draco realised that their Mayfair townhouse was nothing more than a museum to his and Harry’s relationship. 

__

Every piece of furniture that filled the rooms had been brought together, each piece picked carefully and thoughtfully. Everything had been chosen to give comfort and to please the eye. Harry smiled and waved from the dozens of different photographs that covered the staircase wall and led to the bedroom. 

__

The blond wizard felt his head swim with poignant, powerful memories as he padded slowly upwards. 

__

Draco loved Harry. He loved him with every part of his soul. Their lives at school had been warped by his Father’s relentless ambition and power-hungry greed but even at eleven Draco had secretly admired Potter’s innate courage and kindness. His grey eyes had tracked over Harry’s form whenever the other boy had entered the room and so often his vile behaviour had been a blunt attempt to make the Potter hate him. Draco couldn't have borne the idea of Harry being kind to him. Not when he wanted- needed, _craved_ \- so much more. 

__

He’d kept that knowledge locked deep away, never to be uttered or revealed. Draco had believed that Potter and he were fated never to be friends. Fated never to be lovers. Fated never to share their lives in the way that Draco had coveted in his most private, secret dreams. 

__

Fate, though, had other plans for Draco. 

__

Lucius had been arrested and convicted in the days after the War and all those petty duties and obligations that Draco had been born and bred for had been locked away inside the Azkaban dungeons alongside him forever. 

__

Draco had been the Malfoy heir and his only duty had been to take over the Manor and manage their family fortune. Draco had been fated to endure a life where his only acceptable future had been breeding himself another blond boy with some picture-perfect heiress, before going on to live the same debauched, aristocratic existence as Lucius and his grandfather Abraxus before him. 

__

The moment that Voldemort died everything had changed. In the single blink of an eye every certainty that his Father and he had lived their whole lives by had been ripped from the earth like they’d never been. 

__

All of a sudden Draco had been free. Free to fall in love, free to be himself to and conduct his life however he wished. 

__

And what Draco had wished for, most of all, was Harry Potter. 

__

Both wizards had worked on the second level of the Ministry of Magic, in the Department of Magical law Enforcement. Harry had been an Auror Trainee when the two had been thrown together once more. Draco had been a Junior Barrister in the department tasked with keeping the Wizengamot legal process fair, just and above board. The Barrister’s Chambers that he worked from had been matched with Harry’s office in an advisory role. 

__

Of course, everyone in the DMLE had been taken by Harry’s attractiveness. The wizard had still glittered the way that he had back at Hogwarts, radiant, funny and interesting. Even if he hadn’t been their Chosen One people would still have flocked to Harry’s side as quickly as a Niffler after gold. His green eyes shone brightly under those daft wire frames that the man still insisted on wearing and his wide, cheeky grin lit up their shared offices. 

__

It didn’t matter who you were, from Office Junior up to Deputy Minister, Harry still remembered your name. He remembered birthdays and even brought in home-made carrot cake for all of his colleagues to share every Friday. Harry was every bit as effervescent and as magical as a charm and Draco had fallen for him in no time at all. 

__

Ten minutes with Potter and Draco had found himself falling in love like the callow schoolboy that he’d never been allowed to be. It hadn’t taken much. A few awkward, ice-breaking jokes and suddenly the pair of them had been _friends!_. Merlin! Of all the outcomes that Draco had imagined for his life, this had never been a future he’d spied inside his crystal ball during Hogwarts Divination classes. Just being close to the wizard was intoxicating. 

__

Potter had been like a magnet. Witches and wizards alike had tried their hardest to court him. They had sat beside him in the canteen and told him amusing, clever stories, all of them trying to make the wizard laugh and join them in the Leaky after work. Harry had been lovely, of course; polite and kind but he had always deferred. He hadn’t wanted to share his evenings with any of their colleagues. Draco had been the only wizard to catch Harry’s eye. The blond wizard had been the only one that Harry had wanted.

__

It had felt wondrous. Out of everyone in the DMLE and everybody in wizarding London, Harry Potter had chosen Draco Malfoy. 

__

Potter had sidled up to Draco in the Ministry Library one evening, hours after the rest of their colleagues had left for the day. Harry had brought Draco a Fizzy Pumpkin juice and a mini-Cauldron Cake and he had slid them cautiously across the table in Draco’s direction. 

__

“I’ve been keeping an eye on you,” Harry had whispered, obviously trying to avoid the ire of the Head Librarian. “You don’t eat enough and you’re always squinting over these ancient old law books… I think it’s time that you took a little break, Draco. Another half an hour and then we’re both leaving. I’m going to take you to that new Elven restaurant on Knockturn. I’ve heard it’s supposed to be great. My treat.” 

__

Draco hadn’t known how to reply to that. His mouth had foolishly dropped open and the wizard was temporarily rendered a little speechless. Harry Potter, the wizard who had rejected the advances of top Ministry Diplomats and famous Quidditch players was asking _him_ out for dinner? Draco had nodded his agreement and flushed pink with embarrassed pleasure. They hadn’t even lasted ten minutes before the pair of them were slipping out of the Library door, Harry’s fingertips sliding through Draco’s own. 

__

And one, single evening eating Steak and Chips at the Elven restaurant had been enough. 

__

From then on the pair of wizards had been inseparable. Indivisible. Two sides of the same sickle. Harry and he had become _that_ couple that all of their friends complained about. Every weekend had been spent in each other’s company and the days had been long and lazy. Even leaving their bed had seemed like a sacrilege. Their afternoons had been spent watching the Quidditch, listening to Sirius’s old vinyl records and walking over Hampstead Heath. It was a laid back way to live that neither wizard had ever experienced before. 

__

The two wizards had been joined at the hip, a cliché old-married-couple after the pair of them had only been dating for only a month. Draco had even tried his damnedest to teach Harry to slow dance but it was to no avail. For all Harry’s elegance upon a broom he had two left feet when it came to rhythm. Draco hadn’t given a fig though. They were young, they were in love and they’d had a whole lifetime before them. They had brought their Mayfair townhouse less than a year later and Draco had adored every brick and tile of the place. 

__

Life, Draco had decided, simply didn’t get better than this. 

__

~*~*~

__

Draco tugged off his trousers and his shirt. He folded them tidily and popped them onto a chair before sliding between the cold sheets of a bed that suddenly seemed ludicrously large. He supposed that he could spread out his body now- sleep in the _middle_ \- if he wished but right now that was the last thing that Draco felt like doing. 

__

Harry was a terribly greedy bed mate. The man was as big a menace at bedtime as he was during the day. Potter had taken up as much space asleep as he ever did awake. He was a consummate quilt thief and had driven Draco quite bonkers each night, spreading out his limbs like a starfish and tangling his limbs up with Draco’s own. 

__

Every morning had been same. Draco had always awoken to find Harry squashing up his broad, muscly body flush against Draco’s back. Draco shivered at the vivid memory. Every morning his lover’s body had always so bloody _warm_ ; Potter had radiated heat like a cauldron. Harry’s thick morning glory would have been swollen and heavy, resting snugly in the crest of Draco’s arse cheeks. Harry’s lips would have been brushing soft little kisses into his hair…

__

Lay there between the chilly, lonely sheets Draco felt a jolt of misery run down his spine, as real and as awful as any hex. 

__

He’d been happy here in Mayfair, happier than he’d ever been before in his life. Draco knew he’d have been content to share his life with Harry within these four walls for the rest of his days. It hadn’t been enough for Harry though. His boyfriend had left him to travel and now this obscenely gigantic bed was Draco’s alone for the next three hundred and sixty five days. 

__

And it might well be his alone forever. 

__

Draco wondered, only half-seriously whether it was worth looking in their potions cabinet. There might well be a few phials of Dreamless Sleep left in there, dusty, out of date and left over from before Harry and he had become lovers. No. It wasn’t worth it. The migraines that Draco suffered whenever he used sleeping potions had been hideous ever since he had been seventeen. Plus, Draco had some legal preparation he had to do tomorrow that he’d been putting off for days. 

__

Sleeping alone was just another something that he was going to have to get used to. His eyes flicked open and he rolled over, feeling ludicrous. Everything felt so wrong- so bloody _false_ \- without Harry there. 

__

There was nothing for it. Draco rolled over, sliding his body over to Harry’s side of the bed. He buried his nose in Harry’s pillow, and he pulled the quilt up and over his body. The white cotton of the pillow still smelt like Harry’s bergamot aftershave and the honey fragrance of Sleekeazy’s Hair Tamer. However much Harry had used the potion hadn’t ever come close to taming his boyfriend’s unruly mop. 

__

Draco finally closed his eyes. Wrapped here, knotted in the sheets, the scent of Harry filling his senses, Draco finally felt a modicum of calm spiral lazily through his body. 

__

Draco knew that this was as close to Harry’s presence as he was going to enjoy for a very long time. 

__

~*~*~

__

_“You want to go travelling?” Draco had repeated. He been reading an article in Quidditch Today about the Appleby Apple’s exciting new Norwegian Beater and, to his eternal shame, he hadn’t really been listening carefully to everything that Harry had been saying. “Merlin, so do I Potter!” he had answered. “This last round of cases that I’ve been assisting on have been utter nightmares to say the very least.” Draco put his magazine down, looked up and gave Harry a genuine smile. He was listening properly now. “We’ve got plenty of leave left. We should book a couple of weeks off together. Go to the Châteaux… Unless you’ve got other ideas?”_

__

_Harry had shook his head gently before taking off his glasses and cleaning them on his jumper. Draco had wondered then what his beloved was going to say. Potter usually cleaned his spectacles with a wandless Scourgify. That he was cleaning them without magic was an obvious tell. Harry was nervous- even tense- about something._

__

_“No, love,” Harry had said, lines furrowing his brow. He rubbed a rough hand over his face. “That’s not what I meant, Draco! I didn’t mean two weeks being waited on hand and foot by a dozen Elves at Malfoy Manor’s French cousin. I meant proper travelling, love… Living a bit. Seeing the world. Experiencing a different way to live. Like Ron and Hermione did after the War-”_

__

_“Well, we don’t have to go to France,” Draco had interrupted. His voice sounded a little prickly and petulant but then he couldn’t quite understand the point that Harry was trying to make. He thought that Harry was being a touch cruel and unfair about Châteaux Malfoy. The pair of wizards had always had an enchanting time in Bordeaux, walking hand in hand through the evening heat vineyards and along the dusty banks of the river Garonne. “You want to go to Australia?” Draco sputtered. “That wasn’t travelling. You do realise that they went to find Hermione’s Mother and-”_

__

_“Yeah, I know they did,” Harry cut in, “but as soon as they’d restored ‘Mione’s parent’s memories they went travelling all over Indonesia and Asia! They saw things that I’ve only dreamt about!” Harry’s cheeks had flushed angrily. “I’m twenty-bloody-four and I haven’t done anything. I haven’t seen anything! I’ve been so fucking good, Draco! All my teenage years fighting that mad bastard in fear of my sodding life and every single minute since working my arse off as a Auror!”_

__

_Harry stood up and he marched over to the window. He stared out onto the road outside but Draco knew his lover well enough to know that he was simply marshalling his thoughts._

__

_Draco hadn’t known how to answer his beloved. He was twenty-four too, and Draco felt boringly, wonderfully content with their lives together. This was all an awful bolt from the blue and his mind was lagging behind, unable to keep up. “Nobody is denying how hard you work” Draco managed eventually. “But travelling? Leaving London? Why?”_

__

_“I need a break, love. Need a break from The Daily Prophet following me everywhere I go! I need a break from the stares and the comments and all the bloody veneration. I love you, I truly do but I think need to do this.” Harry’s words trailed off to nothing and Draco felt his mind drown under the weight of everything that his lover had just said. His brain felt a little like it’d been Stupefied._

__

_Harry had always appeared to love the exhilaration of life in the DMLE office and, while the press intrusion could often be unpleasant for both wizards, much of it had levelled off since they had moved out to their Mayfair townhouse. Their trips to Muggle restaurants and Muggle grocery stores didn’t really warrant Prophet front pages. Not that regularly, anyway._

__

_“You think you need to do this?” Draco had replied, his tone thick with barely-concealed upset. He hated how posh and pointed his voice always became whenever he was distressed. Nobody could ever understand that it was a defence mechanism, honed as a teenager. His voice rose as he spoke until he was shouting.“You need to think on those fucking plans, because you’re the least comfortable traveller that I’ve ever known Harry! You made Merlin’s own fuss about going to Blaise and Astoria’s wedding because it was in bloody Spain! You’d far rather stay in and watch the Muggle telly than go to a nightclub or down the pub… And you’re the one who set the wards on our townhouse at the highest magical level, Potter. You’re the one who said that this place was our sanctum!”_

__

_“And it is!” Harry shouted back, his green eyes flashing unhappily. His cheeks were flushed and pink. Draco could feel the waves of troubled magic vibrating off Harry’s skin. He really was a powerful bloody wizard.“It really is.” Harry repeated. He sat back down on the settee and clasped his hands between his legs. He bit his lip and turned his face around to look at Draco. “I’ve never been as content anywhere as I am here in Mayfair with you, love-”_

__

_“Then don’t say you want to fucking leave it!” Draco spat back. He ran his hand through his hair as absurd panic filled his lungs and made it hard for him to breathe.“You know that I can’t just up and leave my bloody job! I’ve worked every hour Circe has sent to build up my life from the destruction that Lucius wrought on it! I’ve got a dozen cases up before the Wizengamot and you know that I’ve got Lead Defence on several of them… I’ve got clients that are relying on me to see they get a fair shot at justice, Harry… I can’t just leave them.”_

__

_Draco looked into his boyfriend’s dark eyes. The pupils were blown wide and there was a determination to them. They were dark and resigned; the eyes of their Saviour. Draco swallowed hard. He wasn’t an idiot. There was a seriousness. An evasiveness. There was more to Harry’s distress this than some simple comment made on a thoughtless whim._

__

_“But you knew all of that didn’t you, Potter?” Draco asked, hating the hesitancy in his voice. “What is it that you’re not saying? You’re a Gryffindor. You’re supposed to be straight talking. Direct.”_

__

_“I know about your job,” Harry said, his voice hoarse and very close to a whisper. “And I’m prouder of you than you could ever know… And I knew when I brought travelling up that you wouldn’t up and leave it… But I still want to do this, Draco. I still want to go.” He had swallowed hard and stared into Draco’s eyes. “I want to fund it with my vault, love. Use the money that Mum and Dad left for me… It’s something that I want to do for them, too. They died so young. Never had a chance to live.” Harry reached over and he seized Draco’s hand in his own. His fingers were warm, calloused and so familiar that it made Draco’s heart ache. “I’ve been thinking about this for a couple of months,” Harry continued, “and I think that I still want to go travelling, even if you’re not beside me. Just don’t hate me,” he implored. “Please. I couldn’t bear it.”_

__

_Draco felt like his whole world had crumbled beneath his feet. Everything that he cared about was collapsing into dust, slipping out of his grasp and there wasn’t a thing that he could do about it._

__

_“I love you,” Draco had replied, the words brittle in his mouth. “I couldn’t, wouldn't ever hate you, Harry… You’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me.” Draco cleared his throat. Harry’s face was open and honest. “You’ve really committed yourself to this, haven’t you? You’re already halfway out of the bloody door-”_

__

_“No” Harry cried, his face a mask of distress at Draco’s words. “It’s not like that. Not like that at all. I don’t want to leave you, or our home… The thought of hurting you breaking me into pieces! Every time I think about taking a Portkey and leaving I feel like my soul is about to shatter! I love you, Draco, more than anything. I don’t want to leave you behind but I want to live a little before-”_

__

_“Before what?” Draco asked, the first sharp ripples of a migraine running along the edges of his vision. “You want to live a little before what?”_

__

_“Before I don’t have another chance to!” Harry finished. He looked like he was about to tear out his hair and Draco didn’t think he was far behind.“Before I get offered the Deputy Lead Auror role that Robards keeps hinting at! Before we decide to follow in Hermione’s steps and start having kids! This isn’t about us, Draco. It’s about me. You must know that I love you… But I have to do this now, before it’s too late. Do you understand what I’m trying to say?”_

__

_Draco hadn’t been able to reply. He’d known that if he’d had spoken then he’d have let himself down. He’d have shouted and begged, entreated and sobbed. Draco kept his mouth locked tightly shut, not wanting to betray himself._

__

_“You’re the love of my life,” Harry had continued, winding his arms around Draco’s shaking shoulders, and laying his cheek against Draco’s own.“And I know you only get that once in your existence. If you really couldn’t abide the idea of me travelling then I wouldn't go. I couldn’t leave unless I knew that you were here, in our home, waiting for me. My future belongs to you, Draco Malfoy.” Harry had kissed the line of Draco’s jaw tenderly. “Neither of us need to make any decisions today, love. Just think about what I’ve said. That’s all that I ask.”_

__

To his eternal shame it had taken Draco just over a week to say the words that gave Harry his freedom. During those days he’d been a devastated, weeping mess in front of Pansy and a tempestuous, infuriated arse in front of Blaise. 

__

Draco had lain his head on his Mother’s lap and he had let her card her fingertips through his hair, the maternal comfort as welcome as it’d been when Draco was seven and he’d broken his favourite toy broomstick. 

__

There hadn’t been a single moment in that week where Draco had considered asking Harry to stay. 

__

Draco had been the one to tell Harry to go. Draco had been the one to give his permission.

__

_Draco had collected their favourite Pad Thai from the local Muggle restaurant on the corner of their street on the day that he planned to tell Harry what his decision was._

__

_He dressed up in his favourite blue Versace jumper that Harry always complimented, and the grey jeans that marched his eyes. Draco might have been breaking inside but he still had his Malfoy pride to maintain. He wasn’t going to ruin Harry’s adventure by making his beloved feel guilty or somehow at fault for having a dream he wanted to follow._

__

_The two wizards had settled down to eat as soon as Draco had returned. Harry had set the table and chilled two beers with a flick of his wand while Draco spread out the take-out over the two plates._

__

_Their evening routines and habits were so well established that neither really had to speak to the other. Draco knew exactly how many slices of lime his beloved liked on the side of his dish. Harry knew that Draco liked his beer not far from icy._

__

_Their lives together might have been unremarkable- quiet, even- but that was Draco’s singular joy._

__

_And Draco knew that once he spoke, and the words driving around his brain became real, their beautiful ordinariness would come to an end. He watched Harry eat, the Pad Thai but he had no appetite. The Pad Thai sat, unpalatable and gelatinous on the plate in front of him. “You’re not eating,” Harry observed, shovelling another forkful into his mouth. “And it’s as bloody delicious as always… You’re missing out, love.”_

__

_Draco took a sip of his beer. He smiled and he put down his drink slowly._

__

_“I’m watching you,” Draco had murmured. “Taking you in. I love the way that you eat, Harry. Love how exuberant you are. You get so much pleasure from food… It’s one of the things that I adore the most about you.” Draco pushed away his plate and took Harry’s hand. There was a tremble in his hand and Draco wondered if Harry could feel it. “Tell me again,” Draco whispered. “Please. Tell me again why you want to travel.”_

__

_Harry looked surprised at the turn in the conversation and he lay down his other hand over the top of their clasped fingers._

__

_“I want to see how big the world is,” Harry said, his voice so full of love. “Want to figure out where I belong in it. My whole life I’ve belonged to other people… I want to travel, Draco. I want to see what it’s like just to be Harry Potter, without the expectations and the judgements that come alongside it.”_

__

_“Then go, Harry Potter.” Draco felt a tiny, traitorous tear slide down the side his nose but he didn’t make any move to wipe it away. There wasn’t any other answer to that. There wasn’t anything else that Draco could say. He dug the nails of his free hand into the soft material of his jeans and took a small, shallow breath.“You travel, and you follow those dreams of yours. I love you Potter and I promise that won’t ever change. Have your adventure, love. I’ll wait for you, Harry. London’ll be waiting. Just come back. That’s all I want… All I ask it that you think of me, occasionally.”_

__

_For a long moment Harry didn’t speak. It took a lot to quieten Harry, and Draco’s pronouncement seemed to have struck his boyfriend silent. “Well do say something,” Draco finished. “Please. I’m all ears.”_

__

_“You really mean it?” Harry answered eventually. His voice had a quaver to it and his eyes were red. “I’ll think about you everyday, Draco. Every minute of every single day. I love you… And that- That’s never going to change.”_

__

_Harry pulled Draco onto his knee then and pressed a dozen heady, intoxicating kisses all over his face._

__

_Every part of Draco hurt and his whole body shivered and shook. The reality of Harry leaving felt like a stone in his belly. His skin shuddered with repressed sobs._

__

_“Fuck but I love you so, so much,” Harry muttered into Draco’s hair. There won’t be a day that passes without hearing from me… I’ll write everyday. Firecall as often as I can. And I’ll come back love. I promise. Mayfair is my home… You’re my home. I can’t- Thank you. Thank you so much. Nobody has ever given me anything like this before. Never once in my lifetime.”_

__

Harry had helped Draco to his feet and the two men had moved over to the settee, their hands still wrapped around each other’s bodies. Their Pad Thai lay abandoned. Draco let himself be held in Harry’s strong arms as he cried, any remnants of his Malfoy pride long abandoned. 

__

Harry wept too and their tears intermingled on Draco’s cheeks. It didn’t matter how much Draco ached. Travelling was everything that Harry craved and Draco knew that he had to give his wish. There had never really been a doubt. 

__

“ _If you love somebody then let them go_.” Draco loved Harry, loved him enough not to be selfish for once in his short life. Loved him enough not to thwart a dream of such importance. 

__

“If they return they were always yours. If they don’t then they never were.” Draco ran a finger through Harry’s untidy hair and thought just how much he was going to miss him. 

__

~*~*~

__

To his entire astonishment, Draco’s whole existence didn’t suddenly end just because Harry was gone. 

__

Draco hadn’t thought that he’d get through the first long days without Harry but, to his utter disgust, the sun carried on rising, and magical London didn’t simply cease to exist merely because Harry had left them all behind. 

__

Cases were still brought before the Wizengamot and Draco still had to delve into arcane books of magical law. He still had to research esoteric cases that had occurred centuries before. Pansy still needed counselling though her latest set-to with Theo Nott. His Mother still needed escorting to her various charitable balls. The world kept on turning.

__

The rain still skittered over the cobbles of Diagon Alley and Draco’s Umbrella Charm was still as ineffective as it’d been before he and Harry had become a couple. Harry always used a Muggle umbrella- some leftover from his horrible upbringing- and Draco had gotten used to cuddling close to his boyfriend beneath it. Now all Draco felt when it rained was cold and so dreadfully lonely. 

__

Draco imagined that his colleagues in the DMLE could see exactly how wretched he felt, too. Harry and he had a not-undeserved reputation for being love’s young dream and Draco knew that he was being far more taciturn and buttoned-up than the other wix in his office were used to. They were being lovely, of course; asking him to join them in the Diagon cafes for long lunches and Friday-night quizzes in the _Leaky_. Draco couldn’t say yes to their kindnesses, though. He couldn't bear their sympathies. 

__

Even worse, Draco had been forced to suffer through an excruciating lunch date with the Granger-Weasleys only three days after Harry had left. 

__

Weasley, in his inimitable style, had lain the fault of Harry leaving entirely at Draco’s door. “Harry bloody _loves_ you,” Ron had said glumly, picking at his sandwich with a blunt finger. “All you needed to do was ask him to stay, Malfoy! He’d have cancelled his Portkey, quick as a bloody curse.” 

__

Hermione had been mortified by Ron’s candid words but Draco had been secretly gratified by his fellow-wizard’s plain-spoken honesty. Had Ron Weasley been a font of sympathy then Draco thought he might have finally crumbled into a thousand pieces. 

__

Draco felt thin-skinned and defenceless, like he could dissolve into tears at the drop of a wand. He’d not felt like this since he was seventeen and he had watched his Father being Apparated away by a coterie of red-coated Aurors. Draco couldn’t abide feeling this vulnerable. 

__

Life was a constant series of reminders of what he had lost. Draco spied a new biography of ‘Dangerous’ Dai Llewellyn and he had lain down three galleons on it without a second thought. He had brought the book as a surprise gift for Harry without thinking twice, and it wasn’t until he had been stood outside of Flourish and Blotts, the paper bag clutched lightly in his hand, that Draco had remembered that Harry wasn’t going around to be able read it for many long months. 

__

And, only days later, Draco had been forced to endure Mother’s birthday weekend. 

__

Harry and he had brought her presents together, picking her a scarf and a tea-set set that they had both known Narcissa would covet and enjoy. The two wizards had planned to stay over together at the Manor, but now Draco knew that he wouldn’t be able to bear sleeping in his teenage bed. 

__

He still felt close to Harry within the walls of their shared bedroom and Draco knew that he wouldn’t sleep a wink if he were away from it. He couldn’t abide the idea of his Harry’s gloriously warm body crammed into some uncomfortable, single bed so many thousands of miles away from him. Harry’s sheets wouldn’t be scrupulously clean and scented ever-so-slightly of lavender like Draco liked. Harry belonged here, in wizarding London, in their bed, wrapped inside Draco’s very own arms.

__

One of the problems that Draco hadn’t really considered was the difference in time zones and the sketchy Floo networks in the places Harry was staying. The pair of wizards hadn’t been able to Firecall properly since Harry had left two weeks before and Draco ached to hear Harry’s voice and see his smile. 

__

Of course, Draco knew that Potter hadn’t forgotten him. Harry had been every bit as good as his word. 

__

Letters and postcards had arrived though the Muggle post with a regularity that suggested that Draco was still on his boyfriend’s mind. Potter had included several photos in the letters that showed him laughing, his skin already sun-kissed, freckly and gorgeous. Harry’s green eyes sparked with mirth at some unknown joke and the pallor of London had already left his features. 

__

Draco had pinned the picture to their fridge with a spell, but he found himself ripping it down after only a bare few hours had passed. His loneliness still felt raw, like an untreated curse wound. Harry was away, living his life without Draco next to him. Harry’s world was turning while Draco had been left pining, waiting and wondering. 

__

Draco began to realise that he had been left behind. 

__

The blond wizard had expected life without Harry to hurt but he’d never expected to feel so adrift from everything and everyone around him. Days slipped by as quickly as sand through a timer and very soon the wizard was turning over the next month of his desk calendar. Draco had never expected to experience any part of his life again without Harry, not when the other wizard had been the centre of his existence for four years. Mother had been anxious when Draco had announced that Harry was his new beau. She’d believed that Draco was too young to commit to such an all-consuming love affair and some of his friends had been of the same mind. 

__

“You need to experience lots of different guys to see what you really like,” Greg had offered over beer at the _Leaky_ , “not tie yourself down to one chap.” Millicent had worried too. “You’re suffocating each other,” she had said over coffee. “You do everything together.” Draco had ignored their naysaying. He’d known without question that Harry and he were forever so a life without the wizard wasn’t anything that he’d believed he needed to worry about. 

__

London became sunnier, the evenings grew longer and the world kept on spinning as Draco watched life pass him by. Pansy and Theo got engaged after a lavish party and soon Astoria and Blaise announced that they were expecting their first baby. Mother agreed to extensive renovations of the ground-floor of the Manor and Teddy got brought his first starter-broom. 

__

It only took him six metres from the floor but the little wizard, and all his family were so proud of how well he did on his first attempt. He had even managed to stay upright. “You’d have been laughing too,” Draco wrote to Harry the same evening, his quill flying over the parchment, “the bloody toy only went about five miles an hour! I still thought that Aunty Andi was going to have a conniption!” He paused for a moment before he continued to write. “It wasn’t the same without you, love. Nothing _is_. I wish you had been there with us.” 

__

Draco had nowhere to send his letter to though. All he could do was add it to the growing pile of letters that were waiting patiently for Harry’s return. He could never be a hundred percent sure of which city Harry was travelling between at any given time, and the Muggle postal service was glacially slow anyway. By the time that Draco received Harry’s letters and postcards the wizard had already long-since left the cities and towns that he had sent them from. 

__

There had been a postcard from Brazil: Harry had visited Castelbruxo and played Quidditch with the students there. 

__

There had been a letter from Japan too: Harry had spent some days visiting their traditional hot springs and staying in the Kyoto wizarding quarter. There was a mountain in the background of his beloved’s photograph, and pink cherry blossom that had twirled elegantly around Harry’s handsome figure. Draco had wept once again when he’d seen the picture. 

__

For just a moment Harry had felt close enough for Draco to nearly touch. 

__

~*~*~

__

Draco couldn’t quite credit how, but four months had managed to somehow pass since Harry had Portkey’d away from London. The days were long but the weeks seemed to fly past in the blink of a dragon’s eye and it helped that work consumed nearly all of his weekdays. 

__

His loneliness, once so fierce and so vehement, had begun to fade. Draco wasn’t sure how he felt about that. Even though it felt like a betrayal, the piercing, paralysing pain that had nearly unmanned him during those few atrocious weeks had become more of a dull ache, a curious, phantom-limb feeling that followed Draco into the small hours of every morning. Of course, every so often Harry’s absence still hit him with all the force of a Crucio, but for long periods Draco was able to push Harry’s absence aside and get on with his life. 

__

The Wizengamot seemed ever busier with every week that passed and Draco found himself picking up several intriguing new cases as the weeks ticked by. When the DMLE’s Lead Barrister, an older wizard named McNally had suddenly come down with a particularly grotty case of Splattergroit Draco had found his workload had grown exponentially. The new cases that Draco found himself working on were far more absorbing- and more intriguing- than the run-of-the-mill drunken duels that he was used to managing. 

__

A gift of a case arrived by owl delivery one late July day. Draco sipped a lukewarm cup of Earl Grey tea as he unwrapped the ribbons on the latest brief that had arrived on his desk. 

__

He had been asked to act as Lead Barrister in the matter of the _Wizengamot V Stephenson et al_. The defendants in the case had been accused of an especially nasty case of magical creature smuggling. The very fact that Draco was finally trusted enough to ensure fair and equitable justice was a true feather in his wand. Finally, after so many years of hard work Draco’s reputation was really starting to proceed him. Draco allowed himself the pleasure of a small smile. It had taken the best part of a decade, but he was finally starting to be viewed as more than the Dark Mark that had despoiled his arm and his character for so many years. 

__

Draco had eagerly rushed out of the DMLE the minute that his dinner hour had begun and had rushed over the cobbles to the little park that was across the way from the Ministry of Magic. There was a gnarled old oak tree in a secluded, shaded corner that Harry and he had often eaten beneath when the pair of them had found five minutes to sneak away and hide from their colleagues. 

__

Sometimes they had shared a piece of cake from the Elven Bakery around the corner but more often they had just eaten the prawn sandwiches that Draco had brought from home. Harry would have pulled an incredulous face, and chortled at the luxurious fillings. Potter called Draco’s sandwiches posh, but Draco knew that he’d have eaten them anyway. Draco might have have grumbled at the other wizard’s impudence but Harry had always known that, underneath, Draco didn’t really mind his teasing. 

__

Draco found the oak tree quickly. The floor was a little dusty, and he had to sweep away a couple of beetles with the back of his hand, but Draco wasn’t too bothered about either those. One of the perks of being a wizard was the ability to spell the creases and smudges out of his clothes. He sat down on the grass underneath. 

__

Draco fished out his lunch from a corner of his satchel and broke the stasis spell with a flick of his wand. He took a bite, savouring the sweet taste of the tomato and the crispness of the lettuce. It would have been quite the most perfect lunch had his boyfriend only have been there to share it with him. It wasn’t difficult for Draco to remember the last time Harry and he had sat there beneath the tree and as Draco ate his sandwich, his mind flitted back to his boyfriend. 

__

The memory was still so vivid that Draco felt he could almost reach out and hold Harry’s hand. 

__

The winter day had been dull and cold but Harry had heated the air with a charm and had lain his coat down for the pair of them to sit upon. It had only been three days before Harry was due to Porkey away from London. The Auror had already begun his scheduled leave of absence from the DMLE and he had met Draco to share his lunch hour. 

__

_“So, I’ve brought you a little something,” Harry had said, looking out over the thin grass and the grey, bare trees of the park. No other wix had braved the weather and the two of them were quite alone. “I know we said no big gestures, but I saw these, love… And I just couldn’t help myself.” Harry had murmured, wrapping his arms around Draco’s waist and pulling him close. There was a chill in the air and Harry’s nose was pink and Draco had thought that he looked very lovely. “I love you, Draco Malfoy. More than I could ever put into words.”_

__

_Draco had been really surprised at Harry’s words. The pair had been avoiding mentioning the looming issue of Harry’s leaving as much as possible and their last few hours together hung between them, gossamer and fragile._

__

_“Always so eloquent,” Draco had teased, putting his half of the sandwich aside before he leant in to kiss Harry’s disorderly mop of hair. He had smelt the silky fragrance of his own shampoo, lemony and fresh and Draco had felt his heart tremble. He spent half his life chiding Potter for pinching his stuff but now he was leaving Draco would have given everything to him willingly. “I’ll miss your confused mumblings Potter,” he continued. “And I didn’t think to get you anything.”_

__

_“You’ve already told me to follow my dreams,” Harry had replied, reaching into his pocket to pull out a pair of matching green silk boxes. “Already loved and trusted me enough to let me travel.” The parcels had opalescent silver ribbons wrapped around them that Draco recognised from the Goblin Goldsmiths over on Knockturn Alley. Whatever was in these boxes had cost Potter a fair few of his galleons. “It’s a present for the both of us really.”_

__

_Potter had sat up and had wriggled out of Draco’s arms. He had turned around to face Draco and placed one of the boxes into Draco’s impatient hands. Truth was, Draco was a spoilt chap who had always loved receiving a present, ever since he’d been a tiny boy. With excited, fluttering fingers he had unpicked the ribbon and pulled away the rustling paper. “I’m intrigued,” Draco had grinned, raising an eyebrow. “A present for us both?”_

__

_Draco cracked open the box and inside was a wristwatch, made of thick, hand wrought leather and hand-worked silver. The metal was covered in runic symbols and in the centre of the dial was the image of the sun. It was craftsmanship of a true beauty and Draco was awed by Harry’s thoughtfulness._

__

_“I love it,” Draco had gasped, as Harry took the box back and reached over to take Draco’s wrist into his hand. “Love it more than anything.” Harry had made short work of removing the watch from the box and fastening it around Draco’s wrist. The silver was warm and potent with magic against the cool of his skin. Draco knew instinctively that the object was enchanted._

__

_“Do you like it?” Harry asked anxiously, his verdant green eyes filled with affection. Potter quickly unwrapped the other package to reveal a wristwatch that was utterly identical in every way. The only difference was the grey-silver moon that shimmered in the middle of the dial in place of Draco’s sun. Harry fastened the watch around his own wrist. “Like I said, I saw them and, well- I just couldn’t help myself.” Harry took Draco’s hand in his own and knotted their fingers together. “You see, they’re only ever made in pairs… It doesn’t matter where either of us are, love. We can be anywhere in the world and this watch will show you the exact time of it’s twin. Just press your palm on the dial,” Harry said, gently moving Draco’s hand to hover over his watch. The blond wizard lay his hand over the dial and he immediately felt a spiral of magic tingle next to his fingers._

__

_“Harry,” Draco had whispered, the words soft in his mouth, “I hardly know what to say. I’ll wear it every day until you return to me. But why a wristwatch? I could use a Tempus Charm, or-”_

__

_“It’s to remind you that with every minute, hour and day that passes I’m closer to coming back to you, Draco. To remind you that wherever I am in the world you’re still the other part of my heart. I couldn’t have left without your permission, love and when I return to you it’ll be forever. I know I say it a lot, but I do love you.”_

__

_Draco had pulled Harry into a long, languid kiss. He hadn’t wanted even one more second to pass before the two were touching. His new watch was a subtle weight on his wrist and Draco still marvelled at how well the two of them fit together. Harry was right. The pair truly were two sides of the same heart._

__

_“Mm,” Harry had kissed onto Draco’s skin. “We’re forever.”_

__

_“I love you,” Draco had answered, returning the words easily and knowing they were the entire truth._

__

Draco sighed. He had only eaten half of his lunch while daydreaming away his dinner hour and now it was time to return back to his real life. With a swish of his wand he vanished the remains and got to his feet. Despite the warmth of the weather, and the early hour of the day, Draco felt suddenly weary. 

__

He pressed the dial of his watch with his palm. Potter was in Venezuela now, and it was the early hours of the morning for him. No doubt he’d either be sleeping or partying, his thoughts a million miles away from a small park in wizarding London and Draco Malfoy. 

__

As he walked back towards the doors of the Ministry, Draco cast his eyes back over the oak tree. 

__

By the time that Harry was again sat back beside him its lush green leaves would have faded to browns, reds and golds and many would have fallen from it’s branches. Blaise’s daughter would be born by the time Potter came back and Pansy and Theo would have tied the knot in the Atrium of the Ministry. Teddy would have begun his first term at the local wizarding Junior school and the Manor renovations would be close to completion. Snow would have fallen, and melted, the seasons having continued their relentless trudge forwards.

__

It was eight long months before Harry was supposed to come home. Christmas would have passed by then and Potter’s twenty-fifth birthday too. How different would his beloved be when he returned, if he ever did at all? Time was racing past for the both of them. 

__

The world continued its relentless dance forwards and Draco knew that neither wizard could remain the same person. 

__

~*~*~

__

Draco sat in the Lounge of his Mayfair townhouse, gazing out of the window at the whirling twirl of autumn leaves that were falling from the trees and carpeting the road outside. His favourite midnight-blue mug was held lightly in his hand and the subtle orange scent of Lady Grey tea filled his nostrils. 

__

It was a Saturday and Draco’s first day off after another devilishly busy week. 

__

He’d been Lead Counsel in three cases before the Wizengamot, outlining cryptic points of law for the Prosecuting Ministers and questioning both witnesses and Aurors alike. There had always been a small part of Draco’s psyche that had been convinced he wasn’t a skilled enough orator but every single day he proved to himself that he was improving. 

__

Talking aloud in the courtroom felt like second nature now and McNally had willingly ceded some of his workload over to Draco while the elder wizard made his slow recovery. The experienced lawyer had really been very complimentary about Draco’s work. “Your name’s come up in Chambers more than once,” he had said, raising a crafty grey eyebrow. “Everybody is very impressed. You’re one of the wizarding world’s brightest young barristers.”

__

Harry and he had shared an infrequent Firecall not three nights before and Draco knew that Harry was currently in Vancouver.

__

“It’s bitterly cold here,” Harry had said through their tremulous, indistinct connection. “The snow is thicker than anything I’ve ever seen! You wouldn’t bloody like it, Malfoy… Even a warming charm doesn’t cut it.” Draco had smiled at that. Of course, Potter had been right. Draco knew himself to be a fussy man and he had always loathed the cold. Draco doubted that he’d have been enjoyable company in Canada. 

__

So much had changed in only seven months. Harry was far thinner now that he’d been when he left, and his clothes were as loose-fitting as they’d been when his boyfriend was a boy of seventeen. His untidy hair was longer now and there had been grey smudges beneath his eyes. Life abroad wasn’t as cosseted an existence as life in their London townhouse. 

__

Every rare Firecall ended in Harry’s assertions of love but Draco knew that he was a million miles outside of his beloved’s universe.

__

When Draco thought about Harry’s seagrass green eyes or the disheveled curls of his lover’s hair there was a distant fondness to his thoughts now; a muted reminiscence that wasn’t entirely obliterated by the pain of Harry’s leaving. There was a new serenity to Draco’s existence now, one that he’d never expected, and inexplicably his days were slowly getting a little easier to bear. 

__

Life without Harry was his new normal and slowly, but surely, he was adjusting. 

__

Even so, Draco often found that Saturdays were overwhelming in their silence. Potter had always been a naturally noisy person, be it his clumping boots stomping all over his wooden floors, the beat of his Muggle radio blaring out its unfathomable sounds or the clatter of plates and crockery as he fixed himself a continual stream of snacks. Truth be told, Draco had complained dreadfully about Harry’s loud nature. The wizard had often cast silencing spells or huffed away to their bedroom, his law-books clutched in his hand. 

__

Now though, Draco knew that he’d give all the galleons in his vault to listen to Harry’s off-key singing once more, or even hear him swear when he caught his thumb on their oven. He knew how much he’d love to hear Potter’s poorly thought-out opinions about the Quidditch or hear his boyfriend sighing as he attempted to finish his overdue Auror reports. 

__

Draco laced his favourite boots and he buttoned his jacket against the cold. He was due on Diagon for breakfast with Pans and Theo in less than an hour and he didn’t want to look morose or sad. Draco couldn’t abide their pitying glances. His friends had been supportive to a fault but he knew that they didn’t truly understand why he was waiting so patiently for a man that might not return. 

__

Draco felt the wards wash over his body as he stepped out into the autumnal breeze outside and he shivered at the cold breeze outside. 

__

As Draco walked over the uneven cobbles of his London street he couldn’t help but admire the rich golds, yellows and orange leaves that carpeted the ground. He pressed the front of his watch with his palm. The ghostly enchanted dial showed an eight hour time difference. It long past midnight in Canada and Draco imagined Harry sleeping, his long limbs spelled warm against the icy cold. 

__

Draco wondered idly if Harry ever dreamt of him like he sometimes still did. 

__

Before he knew it, Draco found himself walking through the Leaky Cauldron. The bar was crowded with familiar faces but the wizard didn’t feel much like speaking to anyone. Everyone would ask after Harry or demand to know which countries their Chosen One had graced with his presence. The wix were kind, and only meant well, but every request reminded Draco keenly of Harry’s absence from his side. Draco nodded at the bar-keeper before he tapped the far wall with his wand. He opened the entrance to wizarding London and grinned into the sight of a busy, crowded Diagon Alley. 

__

He knew that Harry hadn’t ever gotten over the sight of the huddled, higgledy-piggledy emporiums and the chaos of fantastic products on show in every window. Whenever they had visited here, a little part of Harry had always been the same excited boy of eleven who’d only just found out that he had been born with the gift of magic. His eyes had shone and his laughter had been so easy. 

__

As Draco walked past the same shops that he’d known since childhood he shoved his hands down deep into his pockets and kept his eyes lowered. Every shop was a memory that he didn’t wish to revisit. Feeding the birds in Eeylops Owl Emporium and laughing heartily when one bit Harry in it’s enthusiasm. Watching Harry get fitted in his burgundy Auror robes at Madam Malkins. Even the memories of sharing a sneaky slice of cheesecake in the Chocolate Cauldron Coffeehouse felt poignant. 

__

He still wasn’t used to walking along the Alley without Harry’s hand knotted inside his own. The pair of them had always enjoyed their lazy weekend mornings at home, before they’d ambled out to buy breakfast whenever their bellies had begun to rumble. As they had walked along, Harry would have shared a running commentary with Draco about the goods on sale, his eyes wide and fascinated. 

__

Draco averted his eyes when he arrived at the International Portkey Office. 

__

Seven months had passed since Harry had left him on that exact spot. Seven months had passed since Potter had kissed him goodbye and left him to travel thousands of miles away from Draco’s side. His mind drifted unwittingly back to the last moment he’d that been in Harry’s presence and had kissed the wizard’s beautiful lips. 

__

The memory was seared into his mind, as powerful as any hex and somehow twice as agonising. 

__

_“And you’re sure that you’ve got everything that you need?” Draco had asked, taking in Harry’s backpack with a frown.“There doesn’t seem much in your backpack, Harry. That would barely cover an overnight hotel stay for me.”_

__

_Diagon Alley had been as bustling as ever. Wix had moved around Harry and he, each of them intent on getting on with their daily lives but Draco felt like his existence was about to go on pause. Every second felt curiously slow and leaden. How could the rest of the world carry on so blithely while his whole world was ending?_

__

_“Mmm,” Harry had replied, “Think so. I’ve double and triple checked… Anything that I’ve forgotten I’ll be able to pick up on my travels. I might have pinched a couple of bottles of your shampoo too, love.” He had pressed warm lips onto Draco’s throat before he had continued. “Sorry. I couldn’t resist. It smells like you. Smells like home.”_

__

_Draco had smiled sadly. He’d brought another pair of bottles for that precise reason. Harry was wearing a burgundy Weasley jumper and a flushed colour was high on his cheeks._

__

_Potter had been terribly nervous, now the time had officially arrived for him to leave England behind and he had caught hold of Draco’s hand with slightly trembling fingertips. It was obvious that Harry was trying to be brave for the pair of them and that broke Draco’s heart a little bit. Draco damned Harry’s ridiculous Gryffindor bravery and he knew that there’d be no backing out of the trip now. Once his beloved committed to a course of action Harry Potter always went through with it, come what may._

__

_The clock outside the Portkey Office had shown that it was twenty-two minutes to the hour. They had two minutes left before Harry needed to walk through those doors and leave Draco behind. Draco remembered how he’d wished for those minutes to last forever._

__

_“You don’t need to leave,” Draco had replied quietly, a small tear escaping despite himself. “We could just turn around. Walk back into to Muggle London… Spend the rest of the day in our bloody bed.” Draco wiped his face with his hand and shook his head wryly. That wasn’t ever going to happen but it didn’t hurt to dream. “Just don’t forget me, Potter? Fuck, but I’m going to miss you so much.”_

__

_Harry had tugged Draco into a quick, impassioned kiss. “And me too. Going to miss your smiles and your snark,” Harry had murmured into Draco’s skin. “Going to miss your care, and your love, and your gorgeous, gorgeous face.” He had carded his fingers through Draco’s hair. “And don’t you go forgetting about me either. I’ll write and Firecall as often as I can.”_

__

_“You make sure that you do,” Draco had replied, wrapping his arms around his lover’s body and holding him with every ounce of the love that pounded thought his body. “And you be sure to come back to me. Our house, our friends and our lives will be waiting for you, exactly where you left them.”_

__

_The treacherous seconds had ticked away, obdurate and unrelenting and then their time had finally run out._

__

_Other Wix swarmed past them into the Portkey Office and Harry had reluctantly moved out of Draco’s arms. The wizard had cupped Draco’s jaw in his warm, calloused hand and pulled him into a final kiss. It was heated and so very full of emotion. Draco had put everything into that kiss, wanting only to show Harry the very depths of his love. He had kissed Harry like his soul had depended upon it._

__

_“Godric,” Draco had gasped as Harry broke their kiss. “Look after yourself, love. Come back to me in one piece! Please. Gods I’m going to miss you, Harry. More than you’ll know.” There had been a lump in Draco’s chest as he had spoken, and the last words had stuck in his throat._

__

_Draco had followed Harry to the door. There Harry had softly kissed the back of his hand. “I’ll be home,” Harry had replied, voice kind but resolute. “You’re the love of my life. You’re my home, Draco love and I’ll be back by your side before you know it. I love you.”_

__

_“That moment can’t come fast enough,” Draco had said as Harry stepped away. “See the world, love,” he whispered, “but come home. I’ll be waiting. I love you too.”_

__

_Harry had given Draco one last, searching, gaze and then he had stepped through the door, away from Draco and far away from London._

__

_Draco had stared at the back of the door and felt a part of his heart crumble into ashes. Draco had wanted to beg, or to scream. He had wanted to rush after Harry and fall to his knees._

__

_Draco didn’t though. He couldn’t. Draco had been the one to tell him to go. Draco had been the one to give his permission. This was his doing. He had told his boyfriend to travel the world and only then, as the tears had seeped slowly down his cheeks, had he realised that Potter had been the one to fill his own world with vitality and colour. Harry Potter was going to see the world, but he had left Draco’s world empty and cold._

__

Breakfast with Pansy and Theo was lovely. 

__

His best-friend was as glorious and glowing as ever; life as an engaged couple was definitely suiting her. The witch’s fashion boutique was growing more successful by the day. The three of them chatted amicably over slices of avocado toast, sharing gossip about their mutual friends and Pansy’s endless pursuit for the perfect wedding dress. 

__

Their meetup wasn’t the quite the same though. Nothing ever was. Harry ought to have been there, his fingers knotted through Draco’s own. He ought to have been laughing at Theo’s jokes and trying his hardest to snaffle Draco’s breakfast from under his nose. Pansy ought to have been teasing the Harry about when he might decide to pop the big question… Draco chewed the bread slowly as his friend’s chatter rumbled over his head. 

__

Without Potter to share it with, Draco’s weekend stretched out into interminable hours, each of them charmless and dull. Life lost its charm when his beloved wasn’t around. 

__

~*~*~

__

Draco threw his book against the wall with a groan of pure defeat. 

__

The words were swimming on the page and his brain couldn’t focus enough to take in a word of the case law that he was supposed to understand before tomorrow. He might even flounder when the prosecuting Ministers spoke to him on the material, but that was a risk Draco knew he would have to take. His head ached, and his heart was sore, and there was nothing, absolutely nothing, in the world that Draco could do to improve his mood. 

__

It was eight and a half months since Harry had left him and with every second that passed by Draco became more and more convinced that his beloved had decided never to return. 

__

Harry had ghosted him. 

__

Harry had left him. First his letters had ground to a halt and then he’d stopped even attempting to make Firecalls. There really couldn’t be any other explanation. Harry, the love of his life and the wizard that had promised so faithfully to come back to Draco’s side had vanished so completely that it was as if he had never been. 

__

If it hadn’t been for Potter’s Auror textbooks still sat on the shelves, and the holey sweaters that still filled their wardrobe, Draco would almost imagine that Harry was a dream that he’d enjoyed, once upon a time. His past life with Harry felt like a fairytale whilst every moment of Potter’s silence felt like purgatory that he couldn’t ever escape from. 

__

The last time the pair of them had spoken had been seventeen days before. The pair of them had shared a gorgeous two hour Firecall during a late afternoon. 

__

Harry had been in Cape Town, South Africa seventeen days ago. The wizard had talked about the people that he’d met so lovingly and Draco had been transfixed by Harry’s voice and the descriptions of everything that he’d seen. He’d felt like he could see the wizarding art that Potter had visited and felt like he had eaten in the same restaurants. Draco hadn’t had much to add to the conversation. Most of his days were spent at the Wizengamot and his evenings were spent helping Pansy in her pursuit of the perfect wedding gown. 

__

_The Prophet_ still followed Harry of course, so Draco knew that nothing horrible had befallen him. He’d been photographed leaving a nightclub, a grainy, smudged picture that had driven Draco to distraction. Had he met someone new? Draco had obsessively scanned the photograph but to no avail. Harry’s face was too blurred. He couldn’t tell if Harry was giving the man beside him the small sideways glance that Harry had always reserved for him alone. 

__

Blaise hadn’t been sympathetic, but then he still hadn’t forgiven Harry for leaving in the first place. “Stop checking on him,” Zabini had muttered, his voice only muted because of his newborn baby asleep in the next room. “He’s moved _on_ , Draco. He doesn’t miss you. You’ve been nothing but loyal while he’s swanned around the world. You deserved more, Malfoy. You need to let him go.”

__

Draco moved angrily around the house. He knew that he ought to take a walk but the mid-November weather outside was cutting and bitter. He had to put on a performance tomorrow in front of the Minister for Magical Defence, and he’d knew that he’d never been less prepared in his career. 

__

His heart thrummed in his chest and he wanted to scream and scratch at his skin. In a fit of raw irritation Draco dashed his midnight-blue mug against the wall. He knew that he’d spell it back together later but the momentary gratification of watching coffee splatter across the wall was worth it. 

__

It was too late to reasonably call his Mother. She’d have gone to bed by now and Draco knew that his utter heartbreak would do nothing but distress her. Pansy would take his Firecall, but she’d been working so hard in recent weeks that Draco detested the idea of disturbing her too. Was this the pitiable, pathetic sum of twenty fives years of life? Stuck here, pining away for a relationship that was obviously as dead as an inferi? Perhaps Blaise was right. If Harry really had cared the way that Draco had wanted him too, would he really have left? Would he really have demanded that Draco wait for him like an oh-so-faithful crup? 

__

Draco cast his eyes around the room. Apart from the ugly coffee stain that marred one wall, everything was as neat and compulsively tidy. In Harry’s absence their Mayfair townhouse looked precisely as Draco had always believed he had wanted. 

__

Harry hadn’t ever wanted to tidy up, not really. Draco had always had to chivvy him along or make a fuss. Those despicable Muggles that his boyfriend had lived with had given Potter a contempt for neurotic tidiness that bordered on dismissive. Much to Draco’s chagrin, Harry had always much preferred spending his time lazing about on the settee to the setting of housekeeping spells. 

__

Now though, their home was far too clean. Draco missed the dirty Quidditch shirt that Harry would peel off when he returned home from his five-aside league. He missed the crumbly plates left by Harry when he’d eaten a sneaky slice of Treacle Tart. Draco missed the apple peels and the banana skins that had been left by the corners of their settee. 

__

Merlin, Draco even missed Harry’s ridiculously curly hairs on the floor of their shower and the sight of his boyfriend’s used socks where Potter had balled them up and tried to throw them into the washing basket. Harry’s aim had always been so dreadful. Draco had complained and moaned about Harry’s untidiness but now he knew that he wouldn’t have cared less. He’d take Harry’s untidiness and fucking _revel_ in it. 

__

Draco knew that he was working himself into a state but he couldn't seem to pull his emotions back into the rigorous straitjacket where he always tried to keep them. Draco was stuck in a spiral of panic. A migraine made his skull feel like it had been hexed and his lungs felt tight, closed and shrunken. The walls of his beloved home felt like the Azkaban cell where his Father had been held and the tears were spilling down his cheeks. 

__

It didn’t matter that Harry had been gone for months. The pain was as raw as the very first day that he had left. Draco was right back at square one, as bereft as he’d been the very first night. He had lost Harry. Lost the only other person that had ever completed him. 

__

In a fit of emotion Draco picked up his quill and Accio’ed a piece of parchment. 

__

The miserable, idiotic pile of unsent letters stood in a cluttered pile on his desk, mocking him with their presence. Draco had hoped to give them to Harry when he returned but increasingly Draco knew that his lover probably never would. 

__

‘ _Harry. I’m so scared. More scared than when I was when I was seventeen_ ,’ Draco wrote, his words defacing the parchment with their ugly truth. ‘ _At least then I had my Father to blame. Back then I didn’t care much for the future because I didn’t believe that I deserved one. You changed all of that. Harry. Taught me that I was worth something. Showed me that I mattered._

__

_I miss you, Potter and I can’t bear to be apart from you any longer. Everything feels wrong when you’re not beside me. Pans says that it’s better to have loved and lost but I think that’s wrong. If I’d have died when I was seventeen then I wouldn’t have known this exquisite torment. I want you here, Harry. I know that I told you to go. I know that told you to see the world but if that means losing you forever then I’ll regret those words until my dying day._

__

_It’s selfish and it’s cruel but I want you to be happy here. I want you to be happy in London, with our friends, in the sanctuary of a home that we built together. I want you to be happy with me._

__

_All I need is for you to tell me goodbye, Harry._

__

_All I need is for you to tell me that you’ve found a freedom that you’ve always secretly craved. Tell me that you’ve found a new lover, one that gives you the whole world._

__

_All that I’ve ever wanted, since the very first day we met as adults in the queue in the Ministry canteen was your happiness. That is why I told you to leave me, Harry. You told me that it was your dream to see the world and who was I to deny you that?_

__

_Tell me that you’ve found a man that looks at you with more adoration than I do._

__

_Tell me that you’ve found a man who’ll hold you through your nightmares and loves you unconditionally._

__

_Tell me you you’ve found somebody who love you enough to let you leave him._

__

_We’re over. I can accept that. I can be a braver man than I’ve ever been before and I can let you leave. Just tell me that you’re happy, Harry._

__

_Tell me goodbye. The all that I ask._

__

_Tell me goodbye..._

__

The words blurred through the haze of Draco’s tears. He was exhausted, physically and mentally. He had lost the most cherished, precious relationship that he knew he would ever experience. Draco decided to drink a phial of Dreamless Sleep, for he knew that slumber wouldn’t find him otherwise. 

__

With a swipe of his wand, every letter that Draco had written to Harry over the last eight months flew into the fireplace and a murmured Incendio was enough to set them aflame. Every anecdote, thought and memory turned to ash in a matter of moments but it wasn’t as if it mattered a single sickle. 

__

Harry wasn’t ever going to return to read them. He was gone forever and that idea simply splintered Draco’s heart into pieces

__

~*~*~

__

Draco was exhausted and his head was pounding. 

__

Fucking Dreamless Sleep. Never, ever again. Even his bloody _teeth_ were aching from where Draco imagined he had been grinding them in his narcotised sleep. There were fresh new bags beneath his eyes and his skin had the grey pallor of the habitual insomniac. Even his hair, normally his pride and joy, was limp and shapeless. It needed a trim but Draco couldn’t seem to summon the energy to make an appointment. 

__

Draco was lost in a fog of misery and he couldn’t seem to find his way to freedom. 

__

The wizard walked through the Ministry Atrium with his head fixed on the floor. There wasn’t a single colleague whom he wanted to share a conversation with. His morning advising the Wizengamot the hadn’t been anything like the incompetent disaster that he’d thought that it might be, but Draco knew that he wouldn’t be able to get away without proper preparation forever. A person was only able to coast by on reputation for so long and Draco knew that his time was rapidly approaching. 

__

Without really being conscious of what he was doing, Draco made for the gnarled oak tree in the park across the way from the Ministry. He was hoping that the frigid November weather, and the thin layer of frost that still persisted would guarantee his being left alone. The ground beneath the tree was hard, and Draco could only thank Circe that he had been born with the gift of magic. A warming spell made the floor at least semi-bareable and he wrapped himself in a bubble of heat. 

__

Harry wasn’t coming back. That much had become so painfully obvious. Maybe this silence of his was the Gryffindor way. Perhaps Potter was being stoic to spare Draco the humiliation of a loud, heated scene. Maybe Harry was trying to leave Draco with some remnant of his pride. 

__

Harry had stepped out of their life together. He’d left Draco behind. 

__

He had stepped out of Mayfair townhouse, and away from wizarding London, into a life that fulfilled him and gave him some degree of happiness that Draco somehow couldn’t provide. In doing so, Harry had taken some fundamental piece of Draco along with him. Left waiting, Draco felt like only half a man. 

__

He’d imagined them growing into middle-age together. Imagined Harry’s hair more grey than black and his own hair fading to silver. Draco had imagined that they’d fill their lives with children and travel, with romance and laughter. 

__

Draco had imagined that they still had years of life to share, entwined in each other’s arms. 

__

“Can I sit down?” asked a voice beside him. 

__

Draco didn’t speak. He didn’t move. He stayed as still as if he’d been hexed, for there was no way on Merlin’s green earth that Harry could be there, beside him. 

__

Not _now_. Harry had left him behind. He wasn’t coming back. 

__

Draco kept his eyes trained on the horizon. The grass in front of his eyes was silvery with frost and the clouds were heavy with the threat of snow. It was so cold that Draco could see his breath and he slowly exhaled, expelling all the air from his lungs as he counted to up to ten. 

__

“Draco, please,” Harry said, his voice shot through with urgency. “You need to look at me. You need to acknowledge me. Please, love.”

__

Draco could barely stand it. He didn’t dare to turn his head. Didn’t dare to move an inch. What if this wasn’t real? What if the voice was nothing was nothing but the fevered fantasy of his shattered, exhausted mind? 

__

“I’m just going to sit down,” Harry said. “Sit down beside you, love… I can imagine how this must seem and I-I know… I know how badly I’ve behaved.”

__

Draco heard the soft sound of Harry sitting down beside him and the exhale of his boyfriend’s breath. The familiar scent of bergamot aftershave and the honey fragrance of the Sleekeazy’s Hair Tamer filled the air between them. It flooded Draco’s brain with a thousand different emotions. 

__

Whatever did Harry mean? Had Potter decided to come home to do the honourable thing and break them off once and for all? Draco finally did the only thing that he could do and slowly turned his head to look in Harry’s direction. 

__

His blood felt like it was chilled with ice and his heart felt like it was going to hammer out of his chest. 

__

Harry was there. Harry was _real_. 

__

Beside him his lover sat, as large as life and twice as beautiful. 

__

Harry’s legs were tangled beneath him and there were new lines beside his eyes. His hair was longer but it was every bit as knotty and untidy was the day that he had left London. He quirked a sad smile in Draco’s direction. The wizard looked more exhausted than Draco had ever seen him. His face was shadowed and his skin was sallow. He’d lost some weight and his coat fit him badly. 

__

“Why are you here?” Draco asked, his tone more resigned and weary than he had expected. “You’re not supposed to be home for months.” 

__

Draco wasn’t sure he wanted to know the answer to the question he had posed. Potter looked like he was wavering on the edge of some abyss. He looked nearly as agonised, and as full of grief, as Draco felt himself. Was this it? Was this their final goodbyes? Was Harry’s new love waiting just around the corner, ready to swoop in and take him away to a wonderful new life abroad? 

__

“I didn’t want to be away any more,” Harry replied. There was a new vulnerability to his tone that surprised Draco. His words seemed to fall from his mouth in a stream of consciousness but he made no attempt to censor himself. “I couldn’t bear it, love… Couldn’t bear to be away from London any longer. I couldn’t stand to be away from our home and the lives that we had built together.”

__

Draco didn’t respond- _couldn’t_ \- respond to that. Harry’s words sat like bile in his stomach.

__

The wizard had been so keen to leave and to _live_ a little before it was too late for him. They had been Harry’s very own words and they still stung Draco so keenly. Harry had rejected everything about their lives only to waltz back now. 

__

Was Draco supposed to pretend that the last year hadn’t happened? Pretend that Harry’s return wasn’t coming on the back of weeks of silence? Pretend that his best-friends hadn’t been concerned about his mental health and that he hadn’t been struggling to contain his emotions whilst he was working? Draco had yearned for this minute with every hour that Merlin had sent but now everything was hurting him so terribly. 

__

“Say something,” Harry urged. “Draco, please. Say _something_. Even if it’s just to tell me to fuck off. I know that what I've done was unforgivable-”

__

“I tried so bloody hard,” Draco cut in, the tone of his voice soft and quiet. He’d always been honest with Harry and this wasn’t the time to start shying away from the truth. 

__

His lover’s face was filled with anguish and Draco knotted their fingers together. Harry’s hands were icy cold and Draco rubbed at them, trying to return some life back into them. “Tried my hardest to just get on with things, Harry… And I _did_. Everyday it got a tiny bit easier. Everyday I was able to accept the void inside me just a little bit more. But then you _stopped_ contacting me Harry! You stopped contacting me and it was like-like I was was shattering into pieces… Fuck but I-I thought you’d left me! Thought that you’d decided that life abroad was what you wanted.”

__

Harry shook his head vehemently. His green eyes were glazed with confused distress and he squeezed Draco’s fingers. 

__

“Never. Never in a _million_ years. I was trying to be brave too, love. Trying to pretend that I hadn’t made the worst mistake of my life on the day I left you and took that fucking Portkey.” Harry made a dismissive, vexed face. “The world was so big, Draco, It was so vast but there wasn’t anything or anyone out there that I _needed_. Everywhere that I travelled? You were still the single person that I wanted to share my time with.” Harry paused. He looked down at the moon on the dial of his watch before giving Draco a pensive smile “But I wasn’t brave. Not really. Everywhere I went I was encircled by groups of happy wix but I’ve never felt so alone. Everything that I needed was right here in London. You were all the world that I wanted.”

__

Draco shuffled closer to Harry. With a small twist of his wand he refreshed the warming spell, encasing them both. Harry was there, beside him. 

__

Harry was _real_. His Harry was home. “And that was how it was for me too,” Draco replied. “Nothing here was right without you. My life was stripped of its colour. Stripped of its joie de vivre.”

__

“But that’s _not_ how it looked to me,” Harry replied. “I was so fucking jealous, Draco. Whenever we spoke you talked about our mates. Talked about meeting Ron for lunch. Talked about Pansy getting married… You talked about Blaise’s new baby.” Harry bit his lip and Draco wondered if he was trying to halt the words that were flowing from his mouth. He couldn’t, though. “And your job. Fuck, but you’ve done well Draco. You’ve achieved so much and you don’t even seem to realise… I’m so proud of you. Every single time we spoke I could imagine our lives here so bloody vividly- and every single time it got harder and harder not to run to the nearest Portkey office. I missed you with all my soul and every time we talked my resolve died a little more… But I tried to force myself onwards. In the end, the only way I could stay away was if I couldn’t hear your voice.” 

__

Harry swallowed thickly, his words coming to a sudden halt. There wasn’t much that Draco could say in reply. The whole situation felt like something from a dream. It was so sudden and his brain was struggling to catch up and make sense of Harry’s words. 

__

Draco rubbed his face with a hand, suddenly feeling somehow powerless now everything he’d wanted- _needed_ \- for so many months was right here in front of him. 

__

“Talk to me,” Harry asked. “Please talk to me… I love you… I woke today and my whole body felt cold and shivery. I could sense that something was wrong… I took the next Portkey that I could find. I’m never leaving you again, Draco. Never in my life. You gave me permission to leave and now I’m asking you to give me the permission to stay here, beside you, forever. If you’ll have me still?” His voice was cautious and small, and Draco felt his heart flutter at the sound. Harry was a self-assured, confident wizard and rarely needed reassurance about anything. “Is that what you still want?”

__

A life with Harry beside him? That was _everything_.

__

It was everything that Draco still wanted. Everything he had craved and coveted. 

__

Words didn’t exist that sufficiently expressed the depths of his relief. Despite the cool of the day, Draco’s body felt heated with emotion. He closed the gap between Harry and let his hand rest gently on the back of Harry’s hair. Draco looked into the wide, burnished green eyes of his lover and he saw only honesty. These were the very same eyes that he’d fallen so deeply for. 

__

The previous months fell away in moments and Draco felt his heart swell with love. Draco knew Potter’s eyes better than he did his own. He closed the space between them both and guided Harry’s lips towards his own. 

__

Their kiss was just as nervous and as full of tenderness as their very first had been. It was both a confirmation and a promise for their future. The kiss was soft and tentative to begin with, a chaste brush of lips upon lips. 

__

Draco could feel the shape of Harry’s smile beneath his mouth. Harry opened his lips ever so slightly, a signal that Draco took advantage of. He subtly deepened their kiss. Their tongues explored each other’s with reverent care and Draco rediscovered the shapes and textures that he had so desperately missed. Draco’s hand knotted through Harry’s hair and he didn’t let go. 

__

Draco was terrified to let his boyfriend escape. Terrified that he might wake and find that this was all a fantasy. 

__

Harry and he kissed countless times in their years together. They had kissed at stylish Ministry dinners and at Weasley family parties. They had kissed passionately as the sun had dipped beneath the horizon, and they had kissed gently, their bodies lax and lazy and their limbs wrapped up with each other’s as they had lain in their bed at night. 

__

This kiss was all of that, and more besides. This kiss was a promise of forever. 

__

“A life with you is everything that I want,” Draco gasped out eventually, reluctantly breaking their embrace. His cheeks were wet with tears but he didn’t make any move to wipe them away. “I’ve wanted you back with me- I-I wanted it so much but I never really believed that it would happen.” Draco let his other hand rest gently on Harry’s jaw. 

__

“And we’ve got forever to enjoy each other. I’m never leaving you again. Harry surged forward and wrapped his arms around Draco, taking his weight and holding him tight. Harry’s powerful hands clasped and stroked over Draco’s torso and shoulders. 

__

Potter’s arms were as powerful as ever and, for the first time in many months, Draco felt fully tethered to the Earth. The missing part of him was restored. 

__

“I love you,” Harry whispered, and Draco knew it for the truth. “Love you so much.”

__

~*~*~

__

Harry side-Apparated the pair of them back to their Mayfair townhouse. 

__

Draco sent a Patronus to McNally and hadn’t even tried to disguise the reason that he had fled back home. Luckily the older wizard was a romantic at heart and he hadn’t seemed to mind. ‘Make sure to come back tomorrow in a better frame of mind,’ the gruff reply had stated when it had arrived. ‘Chambers have missed that infectious smile of yours, Malfoy.’

__

“I can feel our wards,” Harry murmured as the last sparkles of Apparition faded around the two of them. “Feel the magic we’ve built into the place.” Harry’s eyes sparkled as he pulled off his trainers and shoved them into the shoe-rack. He even hung up his coat on his regular peg. “Our sanctuary away from the whole world,” Harry smiled, looking at Draco with a true love brightening his expression. “You’ve no idea how much I’ve wanted to be here.”

__

_If you love somebody then let them go._

__

Those words had been Draco’s pain and very nearly his undoing, but now that Potter’s body was pressed against his own, all his fears and anxieties of the days and weeks felt like some hated nightmare. Draco wasn’t a foolish man, not by any means. He knew that Harry and he still had much to work through and discuss but, right now, all that he could feel was relief. Draco wrapped his arms around Harry’s middle. He nuzzled his face into the crook of Harry’s throat and took in the musky, sweet smell of the man. He was spell-bound by the simple joy of having his beloved boyfriend beside him once again. 

__

_If you love somebody then let them go, for if they return they were always yours._

__

Harry had come home to Draco. This was where the pair of them belonged. They were together, at home in this sacred space that their love had built.

__

~*~*~

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**Author's Note:**

> Thank you very much for reading xxxx
> 
> \--
> 
> Remember to leave some love for the creator if you can! Come reblog this work and view others from this fest [HERE](https://hd-hurtfest.tumblr.com/) on the H/D Hurt!Fest tumblr page!


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